


The Secret Lover

by joshlerhoe



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Nobody is underage, Secret Relationship, Underage Drinking, Virgin!Rick, older!daryl, who says romance is dead?, younger!Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 18:52:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12348570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshlerhoe/pseuds/joshlerhoe
Summary: A story of a boy, the woods, a lake, and a secret lover.





	The Secret Lover

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by Halsey's Strange Love and I just kinda started writing it as a side project. I was originally gonna have Daryl die in the end but I think the fuck not, these two deserve a little bit of fucking happiness and who am I do deny them that? I'm dyslexic and this is unbeta'd so yeah, enjoy

The night was late, nearing two am when Rick slipped out his bedroom soundlessly into the dark, making his way for the east woods. _He_ was waiting somewhere out there, smoking a cigarette, cherry refracting in his eyes, turning them gold.

 _He_ was a secret Rick kept close.

Although Rick was 18, had been since early fall, his parents had an iron grip over him, dictating what he did, who he saw, who he was friends with, and when he did all those things. He was suffocating, but _he_ was like a breath of fresh air, wild and fiery, the very freedom Rick craved.

 _He_ was an escape. Rick had never so much as smoked a cigarette, dabbled in drugs, or had a sip of wine like some did to feel relief from pressure or responsibility, but he figured his secret lover was all he’d ever need. _He_ was liberation from the chains around his neck. One smile and Rick couldn’t help himself.

It wasn’t difficult maneuvering the woods in the dead of night, he’d made this walk many times before, the steps having become second nature to him, weaving expertly under branches and over ditches.

 

The first time Rick had ever laid eyes on _him_ , he’d run off at night, much like now, and was hopelessly lost. Somewhere out in the woods near the center was a lake, water cool and crystal, reflecting the moonshine in the most beautiful way. It was a safe haven, a place for him to be free. To be alone without a parent, tutor, teacher, or anyone else breathing down his neck. He’d spent what must have been hours there, sitting on the rickety dock with his feet soaking, rippling the mirror surface with the slightest movement, watching the tremors carry out until they died. 

He didn’t want to leave but the dread of school the next morning carried him back home, but he didn’t count on getting turned around, the darkness making everything look the same and soon, he was completely unable to find his way back.

He wandered the woods, using common sense to try to find his way back, picking what he figured was the general direction back home and went that way until he got out. But after wandering aimlessly until the horizon was turning faintly blue and falling into several ditches, he was ready to give up, prepared to just lean against the nearest tree and cry, the biting wind of late fall blending into winter cutting through his jacket. But he didn’t. He kept on, knowing if his parents found out he’d been sneaking out, they’d no doubt put bars on his window and a padlock on his door. And that was a sentence worse than death, so be completely trapped with no hope of escape.

And that’s when Rick found _him_ , smoking a cigarette, cherry glowing in his cunning eyes.

 _He_ was like a ghost, silent and observant, only proof that he was real and not a figment of Rick imagination being the scent of smoke heavy in the still air. He said nothing. 

“I’m lost.”

Rick words were paper thin, almost too quiet, but it was all he could manage.

 _He_ kept still, cherry glowing like a beacon and Rick was lost at sea. 

_He_ started walking in the opposite direction, back to where Rick had just come from, not saying a word. 

Unsure of what to do, Rick followed at a distance, keeping the stranger in sight but not close enough for them to make contact.

They never spoke. The man never made a sound, even as he walked his feet were feather light, as if he were gliding across the earth’s surface. It was riveting.

And then, the woods made way to a clearing, and he could see street lamps. He was home.

How?

He never told the man where he lived or which direction he’d come from. The man just seemed to know, like some sort of intuition. 

That, or he knew any kid lost in the woods at two am had to have come from the nearest suburb, and that had just so happened to be where Rick had come from.

Rick smiled, turning back to say thank you, but the man was already gone. Like the wind. The free wind.

 

He went back the next night to the lake, and the night after that, and the night after that, but any trace of the man was gone. Had he even been there? Perhaps he was a guardian angel, or a spirit of the forest, always around to guide wandering souls home.

The man was a mystery.

 

It wasn’t until nearly two months later, in the dead of winter when Rick saw the man again.

He was sitting at the dock, watching the moon slowly rise through the lavender sky, horizon mottled with skeletal birch trees dusted with fresh fallen snow. Night was coming and it was cold, but Rick couldn’t go home. It was just too much, so enclosed.

A voice came from behind him.

“Why you keep comin’ here?”

And there _he_ was. Standing in a leather vest and flannel jacket underneath, smoking a cigarette. The way the smoke rose, floating up and disappearing like it was never there, much like the strange man himself. 

“It’s you,” Rick breathed, voice light in the frozen atmosphere, cloud of ice mirroring the smoke.

The man didn’t reply, stand still, observing. Watching.

Rick turned back, gaze focusing on the moon, lifting higher and higher, edges of the sky melting with soft blues, in the way that only happens in winter.

He felt heavy boots nearing him, vibrations traveling through the old wood and channeling up through his spine.

The man was there, sitting down next to him. Silent.

Rick didn't look at him, but he did answer.

“It’s away.”

He didn’t really know how to answer that any way else, and honestly, he didn’t need to. Those words explained it all.

The man nodded, taking a long drag and holding it in, exhaling through his nose.

“I have a feeling you can relate,” Rick suggested, kicking his boots gently back and forth, toe skidding over the surface of the frozen lake. Small fish swam beneath it.

The man hummed, removing the cigarette from between his lips, resting it in a loose hold.

“Guess so.” His voice was gravelly and shook Rick’s core. He smirked, gaze not lifting from the fish.

“Why do _you_ keep coming here?” The man shook his head, raising his smoke to take the last drag, stubbing the filter out against the wood of the dock, flicking it away.

“What makes ya think I keep comin’ here?”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the air didn’t seem so cold, the woods didn't seem so empty. Rick couldn’t help the blush that rose to his cheeks.

“You said I keep comin’ here, and you’re right, I do. But that means you know I been comin’ here, so you been here too,” he reasoned, curious eyes wandering over the man. Honey blonde hair speckled with snowflakes, looking so soft in the dimming twilight. Eyes narrowed and critical, as if looking for answers to questions he hadn’t yet asked, but still so kind and lovely. Lips pale from the cold, bitterness seeming to affect him more than he put on, and yet so warm and natural when he smirked at Rick’s deduction.

He shrugged his strong shoulders.

“Wanted ta make sure I was here if ya needed me,” he confessed, eyes doing the same to Rick as he had just done to the stranger.

‘What does he see?’ Rick wondered, waiting until their eyes met again to respond.

“If I needed you?” It wasn’t accusatory, nor did he feel offended at the implication that he didn’t know what he was doing, but warmed that this stranger was thinking of his and watching out for him. Such a sweet act from an odd man.

The man’s shoulders hunched and he flicked his gaze away, turning to peer across the frozen landscape to where the horizon met blue.

“Thank you.”

The man’s brow furrowed, slowly letting his attention come back to the boy next to him, who smiled softly, so genuinely. He nodded timidly. Rick tilts his head, clasping his hands in his lap.

“Somethin’ wrong?” The man shook his head, then shrugged, and after a moment he chewed his lip, picking at the chapped skin with sharp, nervous teeth, humming as a response. Rick persisted, silence encouraging the mysterious man to meet his gaze again. Rick’s eyes were big and sweet, showing the man no harm.

“‘S jus’, ain’t nobody ever really thank me fer nuthin b’fore.” Rick wanted to touch him, maybe just his hand or his jacket, but his heart told him the man needed more. Warmth. Care. Understanding.

Rick reached out, softly brushing the back of his hand against the man’s cheek, fingers coming up to whisk his bangs out of his eyes, lashes flicking as they fell shut.

The man’s scruff was coarse against Rick delicate palm, but his cheeks were so warm, even with the winter winds swirling around them.

“What’s your name?” Rick’s voice was velvet, thin as not to disrupt the peace between them. The man’s eyes opened up, gaze fixed straight ahead to Rick’s chest, as if he was afraid to move, afraid to lose the contact. He caressed the man’s cheek, encouraging him to speak up.

“Daryl.” 

He was shy. He was gentle. He was kind. He was beautiful.

He smiled at _Daryl_ , eyes dewy and slow, visage innocent.

“I’m Rick.”

Rick didn’t want to have to leave Daryl, but the sky had turned from lilac to navy during their time on the dock, and his parents were sure to have noticed his absence. So, with a promise of returning the next night, Rick returned home, chilled to the bone but warm to the touch.

 

They continued their meetings in secret.

It was Rick who decided to keep quiet about Daryl. It was just something for himself to know, not his parents, friends, teachers or anybody else. And it wasn’t like anyone would understand anyway, why on earth Rick would keep sneaking out at night for midnight rendezvous with a man nearing thirty who he met under such strange circumstances. 

If his parents had found out, about him leaving at night, about the lake, about Daryl, they’d no doubt jump to conclusions about the nature of their relationship. And he couldn’t put Daryl in danger like that, so he kept quiet. 

Daryl was unlike anyone he’d ever met.

He wasn’t domineering like his best friend Shane, but let Rick lead and was happy to follow.

He was a good listener, unlike Lori, who just waited for her turn to speak. Daryl hung on every word.

He didn’t expect anything of Rick, like his parents did. He was happy to just sit at the dock and listen to Rick talk, smiling and nodding when needed.

And Rick had fallen in love.

 

It was spring now, snow melting away and making room for new life, trees budding and spring peepers chirping all around them as they chased each other through the trees, laughing and smiling.

They ran all the way to the dock, Daryl carrying Rick on his back when he’d been tagged. Rick’s heart warmed at Daryl’s vibrant smile, rare and true, arms strong and reliant wrapped around Rick’s thighs, holding him close.

The atmosphere was energetic and spirited, the pair singing a poor rendition of Rocket Man, the duet interrupted by giggles and misunderstood lyrics, Rick smiling into Daryl’s hair when the man took on the chorus solo with charisma and honestly, a pretty decent result.

He set Rick down when they arrived at the end of the dock, assuming their usual spots, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.

The air was cool with the breeze, dragonflies skipping along the lake surface, rippling the reflecting of the sunset. The woods were alive that night, and so were they.

It was a night filled with conversation, laughter, and smiles as the two enjoyed the other’s company, watching as the sun set sank below the earth, painting the sky in every brilliant shade of pink and orange imaginable, stars peeking out in the dusk.

It was magical.

Rick leaned his head on Daryl’s shoulder, nose nestled in the fabric of his flannel button down. The gesture was returned with an arm wrapped securely around his shoulders, scruffy cheek nuzzling his hair. Rick smiled, eyes slipping closed, letting the serenity of the atmosphere fill him. It was perfect. Daryl was perfect.

“I love this,” Rick whispered, arms lazily wrapping around Daryl’s waist, fingers tangling up in his shirt. He hummed, his way of asking for Rick to continue.

“Being out here, at a place where only we know about. Just sitting here...with you.”

The flickering of fireflies lit up the woods, beacons in the ebbing day.

“I like being here with you too.”

The wind was light, just caressing the water.

Rick pulled away, Daryl doing the same. 

The earth was thrumming with energy.

Their gazes met, blue meeting blue, warm meeting cold. They were unwavering. 

The woods seemed to vibrate as their lips met, soft and slow.

It was everything Rick thought it would be and more. Daryl, gentle and sweet, holding him in his arms, giving everything he had.

His heart burst at the seams.

 

Spring was turning into summer, and graduation was drawing closer. But Rick was disinterested in that, his attention only on Daryl, and spending as much time as he could with Daryl. 

The air was sweet this time of year, just as May was ending and in that merciful period before the usual Georgia humidity beared down on them relentlessly. The crickets chirped their tunes and frogs hopped off their lily pads into the water as he approached, shoes tapping against the rickety wood of the dock. 

Daryl was usually there before him, if they didn’t find each other in the maze of birch trees first, something that disappointed him a bit.

Rick had prepared a surprise for Daryl after their last night together, conversation directionless but no less interesting. They’d talked about growing up and their best childhood memories, and most of Daryl's involved music, so he made a mental log of every song he mentioned and made a playlist for him on his phone.

So he just waited, kicking off his shoes and socks and letting his feet rest in the cool water, kicking back and forth as little critters began to circle him.

He leaned back on his palms, turning his gaze up to the sky. 

It was the night of the full moon, so the stars shining, twinkling and sweeping all across the heavens, like God had slicked the bristles of a paintbrush on a black canvas and hung it up, just for Rick to enjoy. 

He hoped Daryl would come soon. It was lonely without someone to share the sky with.

Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and a kiss was pressed to his cheek. He smiled and leaned into the warm hold.

“Didn’t hear ya comin’,” Rick giggled, turning in Daryl’s hold and kissing him proper. When he pulled back, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

No longer were Daryl’s unruly locks hiding his eyes from sight. They been cropped short, now looking a bit more sandy than honey. He couldn’t help his smile growing bigger.

“Is this about what I said?” He questioned, petting his fingers through the silky strands, still long enough to curl around his ears in the way he finds so endearing. Daryl shrugged, turning bashful.

“Said ya liked my eyes, so now ya ain’t gotta be brushing my hair all the time,” he explained. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

Rick shook his head, unable to keep himself from touching the now sandy strands.

“I love it.” Daryl blushed at that, shrugging again, and then he seemed to remember something important.

“Oh, I got a s’prise fer you,” he said, sliding the straps of a bag off his shoulders, Rick having been so enthralled with his cute new hair, he hadn’t noticed the backpack.

“I got one for you too,” he confessed, reaching for his phone in his pocket.

“Kay, but I go first,” Daryl demanded, too excited to wait. 

Unzipping the bag, he pulled out two mason jars, handing it to Rick. He was perplexed. It was filled about half way with a clear liquid, 75% written on a piece of tape, stuck onto the side.

“You got me water?” Daryl shook his head.

“Not water, sumthin’ better,” he assured. Rick ‘hmm’ed, and unlatched the glass lid. The instant he did, he was hit with the overpowering burn of alcohol. He instantly recoiled, holding the jar away from his face. Daryl laughed and opened his own jar, bringing it to his lips and tilting it back.

“Moonshine,” he informed, motioning for Rick to give it a try. He scoffed.

“Wow, I make you a thoughtful gift, and you get me drunk,” he teased, throwing caution to the wind taking a sip. It burned like molten metal down his throat, stealing his breath and just about knocking him down on his back.

“Holy shit,” he croaked, struggling to catch his breath.

Daryl laughed and drank more out of his jar, wincing at the initial burn but ultimately faring better than Rick, desensitized by years of experience.

“Yeah, it gets ya at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. I had my first drink of shine at ‘bout thirteen.” He flicked his head out of habit, hair no longer there to tickle his nose but the need still there.

“You never told me ‘bout that,” Rick whined, forcing down another sip as not to fall behind.

“Cuz I don’t remember it. Merle kept pushin’ me to drink more and I blacked out. Just remember I was drinkin’ on shine and I was thirteen.” Rick laughed, shaking his head, not sure if he believed it or not, but by the end of the night, he’d have no doubt. 

Rick tried another sip, taking it slow and steady. Daryl nodded and praised him.

“There ya go, gettin’ better already,” he set his own jar down on the dock and watched Rick drink.

“This might be a dumb question, but would I be a lightweight if my head already feels a little fuzzy?” Daryl smiled and nodded, taking the jar from Rick’s hand and setting it next to his own.

“Maybe, but you seem to be doin’ pretty good for yerself.” Rick smiled sweetly, warming Daryl’s heart like a summer sunset.

“Kay so whatchu got fer me?” Rick gasped and reached for his phone in his pocket, pulse thrumming in anticipation for Daryl’s reaction. He’d spent nearly two hours on it, and he couldn’t wait a moment more go deliver.

“I made you somethin’.” he teased, pulling the phone away for Daryl who moved in to grab it.

“God, you’re so impatient,” Rick chided, fingers flying to enter the passcode and opened up library. 

After a few moments of indulging himself in watching Daryl squirm in anticipation, he pressed play and the first notes of Ozzy Osbourne's piano drifted out into the saccharine Georgia air.

His eyes were so beautiful and soft as he recognized the song, one of those rare, true smiles coming to fruition.

“Rick,” he sighed, cheeks warming up with a rosy hue, emotions welling up in his eyes.

“There’s more,” he assured, handing the phone off to Daryl, whose smile widened the further down he scrolled.

“I didn’t even tell you about half these songs.” Rick shrugged.

“Well, the songs you named weren’t enough to fill up an entire playlist, so I just added some I thought you might like,” he explained, growing bashful the longer Daryl looked at him like he’d never seen someone so endearing. Daryl laughed and shook his head.

“Nobody even done nuthin’ for me like this b’fore...God, you were right! You made me somethin’ so thoughtful and I’m gettin’ ya drunk.” Rick shook his head and brought his jar to his lips once again, taking a respectable sized drink.

“I mean, it’s not like I don’t appreciate it,” he joked, motioning for Daryl to do the same, grinning when he did.

His belly felt warm and full of moonshine, head feeling the same as he set his jar down and crawled the sparse distance across the dock, eyes languid and unfocused in the moonlight. 

Placid hands fell onto vast shoulders, tawny skin tepid under tender finders. Sinewy arms circled his waist, fluid and sure, pulling Rick into his safe chest. God was he in love with this man.

Their kiss met like a honey bee to a tulip, ever so heartfelt, like true lovers.

Rick hummed as a velvety tongue slipped past his pliant lips, sensual and wet, integrity of the kiss slowly breaking down the longer Rick had Daryl in his hold, unable to keep his composure as those capable hands ghosted up and down his sides.

“Daryl,” he moaned, trembling fingers brushing cropped blonde locks, pulling him in closer if that was even possible.

“Rick,” he hummed in return, pulling away to gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, filled with the summer heat, and the heat of another kind.

A mischievous smirk spread across Daryl’s bitten pink lips.

Rick’s mind was lost in the stars, lost in the midnight shine of Daryl’s royal irises, until those beautifully capable hands gripped him tight and his body was launched head over heels into the cold, still water.

The sudden temperature all over his previously heated body was a literal shock, involuntarily shouting and muscles seizing as he stood waist deep, just beyond the dock.

“God dammit Daryl!” he shrieked at the man absolutely lost in laughter, rolling onto his back and smacking his palm to the rickety wood.

Even drenched in bitter water, he couldn’t help but adore the man on the dock, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get him back. Wading over to where Daryl was laying, rolling onto his side to face his hostile lover., grin never faltering.

“You think you’re so funny,” Rick growled, fists wrapping tight in the worn leather of his vest, feet planting firmly in the silt and tugging with all his might, dragging Daryl’s heavy down down into the lake with him.

His laughing suddenly came to a halt when his body hit the water, Rick’s arms around his shoulders refusing to let him surface. He managed to break from the hold with some struggle, kicking down against the water to surface, gasping for breath and shaking the water from his eyes.

“Jesus Christ Rick, learn to take a joke,” he gasped as the boy came up, splashing him as Rick came in closer to hug him.

“You started this,” he cried out, kissing Daryl’s neck and giggling into his collarbone, alcohol clouded mind making him unable to stay mad at the man in his arms. He was just too damn cute to stay mad at.

“Yeah, guess I did, didn’t I?” Rick’s head was swimming in Daryl’s silky voice, wrapping all around him and reeling him in by the heartstrings. 

Rick pulled away from the embrace, wading back over to the dock and hoisting himself to sit down, toes kicking around in the disturbed water. Daryl followed suit, coming to stand between Rick’s spread thighs, hands resting on soaked hips, bottom lip caught between teeth.

“You mad at me?” His voice was small and timid. Rick stared forward, eyes blank and expression stoic. Daryl ducked his head, keep his eyes on Rick’s, giving him his best puppy dogs.

“Rick…” he whined, pitching forward to bump his forehead to his shoulder, letting it rest there and nuzzled his neck, peppering kisses in his wake.

“C’mon Rick, we both know you ain’t mad.” His composure slipped as Daryl started playfully nipping his ear, knowing very well it was his weak spot.

“Goddammit, I can’t even try to be mad with you,” Rick huffed, wrapping damp arms around equally damp shoulders, kissing the man standing between his legs.

Daryl hummed softly, music and moonlight the only things around so witness them there.

It was all either of them needed, just a moment together, kissing, loving.

Rick pulled back and took in the sight on Daryl in front of him, how beautiful his eyes were in the sparse light of the moon, all dark and seductive, tiny droplets caught in his long lashes, rivulets of water caressed his face, dripping down from strands of shiny hair. His sculpted cheekbones created cliffs of shadows, cascading, making him so alluring, Rick couldn’t hope to resist him.

They kissed again, but this was different than the last; this was heavier, more tongue and touching, hands exploring places unknown, up under shirts, over hips, across thighs and so on. This was unlike anything Rick had ever experienced, with Daryl or anyone else, and he wanted more, wanted to give Daryl more.

He gasped when Daryl’s teeth scraped under his jaw, just enough to kickstart his heart, then settled him with kisses and nuzzles. He was so in love.

“Daryl…” his voice was hushed, cracking on the last syllable. His heart was racing, nerves frayed but also so sure of himself and what he was about to ask of the man he adored so much.

“Hmm?” He stopped his treatment to Rick’s neck, now just resting against his body, holding him so secure and steady. Rick’s breath trembled against Daryl’s hair, fingers coming to toy with a sandy strand, twisting it around and smoothing it back down.

“I have another present for you.” Daryl pulled back, looking so inquisitive.

“Y’ do?” Rick nodded, cheeks heating up under the other man’s gaze, moonlight catching the blue so beautifully, it was nearly heartbreaking.

“What is it,” he asked, smile ghosting over his lips.

Gazing into those eyes, those eyes that promised him safety, love, and understanding, Rick knew this was it, the right time. The right person. How could he not be?

With bated breath, Rick leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Daryl’s cheek, scruff tickling his nose. Arms circled his waist, protecting him from the outside world beyond of their bubble, beyond the lake. He’d never been so sure.

He pressed their foreheads together, voice soft and slight.

“Daryl…” The world around them faded away. The crickets, the soft music, even the chill of the water all seemed to vanish in the moments between Rick’s words.

“. . .I’m a virgin…“

Neither of them moved, or even breathed, in fear of toppling this fragile position.

“. . . I want it to be you. To be my first.”

Daryl seemed to have the wind knocked out of him at Rick’s request, racked with a range of emotions and thoughts, but all coming to the same conclusion.

He nodded, arms quivering in their place around his young lover’s waist, but never coming loose. He’d never let Rick go again.

“Only if yer sure.” Rick hummed in response, pulling back with palms coming up to caress warm cheeks.

“I’m sure.”

Daryl kissed Rick, deep and passionate, pouring his heart and soul out for Rick to feel.

He broke away for a moment to rise up out of the water that didn’t seem as cold as it initially had, up onto the dock. Rick backed up to give Daryl room to kneel between his legs, slowly pulling him down on top of him, fingers curling in blonde locks, lips meeting once again in a flurry of touches and moans.

 

The night became late, midnight bleeding into early dawn, and early dawn became morning.

Two lovers dead to the world beyond their embrace woke up to the sound of singing birds, slowly rising like the languid sun masked by the early mist dancing over the crystalline water of the lake.

They didn’t move from the dock. They made love there, came down, and fell asleep there, refusing to leave the stillness of the woods, or move from the other’s arms. 

Rick gazed into cornflower blues, recalling how it felt to have Daryl inside of him, filling him, touching him all over. The intensity of it all was like nothing he’d ever experienced, and he hoped they’d do it again soon.

Daryl kissed him good morning.

“How ya feelin’?” Rick sighed, eyelashes fluttering, still heavy with sleep.

“Pretty damn amazing,” he assured, knowing Daryl well enough recognize his insecurity rearing its ugly head.

“Thank you so much Dary.” The other man was taken by surprise, leaning up on an arm.

“Fer what?” Rick smiled, reaching out whisk blonde bangs off his forehead, caressing his cheek as he did.

“For being so sweet.” Daryl scoffed and leaned his body over Rick’s, lying his head down on his chest, purring when Rick began to pet his hair in that way he loves so much.

“You are. Probably the sweetest weirdo creeping on people in the woods I’ve ever met.” He planted a kiss to that silky hair tickling his chin.

“Thanks, I guess?” They both laughed.

“Sweetest weirdo creeping on people in the woods that also happens to be a great lay,” he quipped, Daryl pulling away from his embrace.

“That’s it Rick, I’m kickin’ yer ass,” he declared, grabbing the boy up in his arms and wrestling around. 

“Not too hard, it’s still sore,” Rick pleaded, Daryl pinning him down to the ground, nuzzling into his neck and leaving a trail of teasing kisses.

“Fine, but next time I ain’t lettin’ ya off so easy,” he chided, relaxing back to cuddle the younger boy, holding him to his chest.

Once the mist cleared and the sun lifted off the edge of the horizon, the pair left the safety of the lake and made back towards the edge of the woods, returning Rick home. Neither of them wanted to leave the other, but with the promise of returning, they parted ways.

 

Rick maneuvered the terrain in the pitch dark, croaking of frogs loud in the otherwise silent night. In mere minutes, he made it to the lake, pristine and untouched. Just for him. And just for Daryl.

Making his way across the edge of the woods and up to the beach, he stepped onto the rickety wood, creaking under his weight and stood at the end, peering across the expanse of the water like he’d done a hundred times before, but no less mesmerized by the scenery. The crescent moon hanging among the stars, fireflies dancing through the air, their luminescence reflecting in the surface, seeming to double their numbers. The air was as sweet as it always was, untouched by life outside of the woods.

Footsteps approached from behind, the scent of smoke curling around him, just like the arms around his waist, holding him against a strong chest, like a fortress. 

He sighed, hands clasping over golden skin, tilting his head to let eager lips taste and touch.

This was all he needed.

Just the woods, the lake, and his secret lover.


End file.
